Black Money
by Fuji-Kumori
Summary: Hunters arrive at Beacon Hills, but this time, they're different. They're not here to kill, they're here to imprison. And this time, they're here for a werewolf. Hinted sterek. Originally posted on ao3, FujiKumori.


Summary:

Hunters arrive at Beacon Hills, but this time, they're different. They're not here to kill, they're here to imprison. And this time, they're here for a werewolf.

Notes:

Got this idea from watching the teen wolf trailer. Any translations made from google translate, I apologize if it's wrong.

* * *

**Black **Money

_ "Derek's missing!"_

When he heard those words, he went into shock. Stiles had dropped what he had been holding, immediately standing up. A large part of him was shocked that Scott actually _cared_ that Derek was missing. Another part of him was confused in why Derek bothered to stay in the loft if his 'enemies' knew where he lived. I mean seriously, common sense right?

"What do you mean he's missing?"

"I _mean_," Scott put emphasis on his words. "He's _gone_."

Stiles frowned, pondering on what could've happened to him. "Are you _sure_? Were you able to smell him or?"

"I followed his scent but it just-" flailed around a little as if to say something. "_Nothing_."

"Nothing?" Stiles parroted, his voice squeaking a little. "Nothing left behind?"

"No, just," Scott took a short pause, digging into his pocket a pulling out a rectangular piece of paper. "This."

Scott held up a white card with a design in red on it.

Stiles leaned towards it, getting a good look at it. "Are you able to smell anything on it?"

"No," Scott shook his head. "It doesn't smell like anything, besides its surroundings."

Stiles looked at the card again. "May I-" he reached his hand up to grab it.

"Sure," Scott handed him the card.

Stiles looked at the card, observing the icon on the card. He took the card in his hand and flipped it over, some sort of odd writing on it. 'Nigra Forum,' was written on it.

"Black Market," he whispered under his breath. He was shocked to see the words written on the card. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open.

Scott frowned, struggling to hear what he said."What?"

He wore the same expression as he looked up at Scott. "Black Market," he stated in a panicked tone. "Do you _know_ what this even_ means_ Scott?!"

"No," he drew out the word.

"_This_," he emphasized his word, shoving the card in his face. "_This_ is a _supernatural_ black market!"

"Meaning-"

"_Meaning_ that they're going to _sell_ Derek to some, some-" he flailed his arms around, trying to find the right word. "_Consumer_."

* * *

After Stiles' discovery, Scott had decided to call up Lydia, Kira, and even Peter, Malia, and Chris, to discuss this with them.

"What do you mean he's missing?" The person who had said that was none other than Peter Hale, Derek's uncle.

"It's exactly what I said," Stiles stated firmly.

It was weird. Peter seemed like the kind of person that wouldn't really care about anyone other than himself, but he seemed truly worried about Derek. It must have something about Derek being the only family, that he has known his entire life, left alive.

"How exactly?"

"This," he rose the card he had received from Scott earlier.

All people looked at the card and looked at it carefully. "What is that?"

"Derek's been taken for the supernatural black market," he wore a serious look on his face.

They looked distressed. They were clearly worried about him.

Peter especially. He was crouching on the ground, staring blankly into space as he rubbed his chin with his hand.

"We'll get him back," Stiles gained the attention from Peter who slightly gaped his mouth. "We just need to work together on this."

He was still reluctant to work with Peter, but he, all of them actually, needed to get their grumpy werewolf back.

* * *

"Found it!"

They all halted their research as they turned their head to Lydia. "He's in Mexico," she glanced between all of them. "There's a building with this logo somewhere. There's rumors about the owners doing some shady stuff in the basement," she glanced back at the screen. "Where the only aceess is in an alleyway."

"Then we know what we have to do," Scott announced to them, rubbing his hands together. "We have to buy him back."

"But," Chris cut in. "It can't be any supernatural." His eyes focused on the true alpha. "Especially you Scott, it's too dangerous."

"Then that just leaves me and you," Stiles commented.

"Not me," his reply shocked Stiles. "I'm a hunter, they know me."

"Then," Stiles said nervously. "Just me."

* * *

The group had split up once they arrived at Mexico. Stiles, Lydia, and Peter had decided to go stake out the place and wait while Stiles went in. He had been carrying a briefcase full of cash money. They all had to pool their money to get Derek.

Night had already fallen and they decided to park a few buildings down from where he needed to go. And if it was needed, they could just drive over to where he was and get away.

Stiles was wearing professional clothes as if to represent a business man, so he wouldn't look suspicious. He didn't go all out, just black slacks and a white collared shirt. He gripped the briefcase tightly, the card in his left pocket. He glanced down the streets, seeing only a few people. He rushed down the street and down into the alleyway.

The alleyway was empty.

To someone that didn't know anything about it, it would just be nothing. There was only mess, mess and more mess. He walked and looked both sides for an area which would seem like an entrance.

He spotted a door that blended into the wall and stood close to it. He knocked on the door and waited.

After a few minutes, the door opened, allowing him inside.

He looked at the man who opened the door. He was wearing a black suit along with sunglasses to hide his eyes. He motioned him down the hall, pointing to the only door to the left.

He saw a man sitting at the desk with confidence and a few people who seemed like guards.

"Idioma?' The man asked him. He had his hands folded in his lap, and seemed like he was holding something. A weapon probably.

"English," Stiles was nervous but he attempted to sound confident and not nervous.

"What are you looking for?'

"A werewolf."

The other man wore a smirk on his face as he leaned onto his desk. Unlike him, Stiles wasn't smiling, he only had a serious expression on his face. He didn't know what was on his mind but he could tell it wasn't good.

"Follow me," he stood up, revealing a type of gun in hand. He turned his back to face a door behind him. As he was unlocking it, one of the four guards in the room urged him to follow. He glanced back at the man who had opened the door and waited for him.

When Stiles made a move to follow him, the other man looked back down the dark hallway.

'_This seems like the beginning of a horror movie_,' he licked his lips as they stopped for the man to open another door that bore the sign 'Werewolf' on it. '_They're no going to kill me, are they? And for hunters, they're not very subtle_.'

Once they stepped in, he heard low growling and barely audible words. He glanced at both sides to see if he could spot Derek. There were cages aligning the walls, and in each cage was a human with a clothing at the side. They all seemed to be in their underwear, revealing most of their skin. They were chain to the walls and blindfolded.

"Don't worry," the man said. "They can't hurt you." He turned around and lifted his arms. "Here's the merchandise."

Stiles inwardly cringed when he said that. '_They are _people,_ not _objects_._'

The man turned around again. "Just let me know when you find something you like."

They all started walking down the hall, the people in the cages started to go ridged. Stiles too as he looked for Derek.

'_No_,' he thought to himself as he glanced at the different faces. '_Still nothing_.'

As they walked down the hall, the other man glanced behind him. "Anything?"

"No-" he cut himself off as he spotted someone familiar.

It was Derek.

He stopped in tracks and turned toward the cage, gripping onto the bars. He was shirtless and only had his Black boxers on. He was all tan and blind folded too. He was chained to the wall by his neck and wrists.

"This one," he said in a bit of an eager tone.

"Are you sure?" The man pulled out a key as Stiles jerked his head toward him. "He's a bit sour."

'_Don't I know it_,' he smirked to himself.

He unlocked the door and shoved Stiles to the other side of the hall, the guard going into the cage with him. The man unlocked the chain on his neck and removed the cuffs from the wall, leaving it to just locked his wrists together. Derek still had a metal collar around his neck as he was forced up. He looked weak.

He growled, turning his head toward the man.

The man grabbed a box to the side a turned a knob.

Derek screamed out loud, flashes of light blue appeared around the collar.

Stiles was shocked. They were hurting him right in front of his eyes.

"He won't hurt you," the man directed the words to Stiles as he turned down the knob. "Wolfsbane. The werewolves weakness." He smirked and turned toward him. "Fifty thousand and he's all yours."

"Here," Stiles handed him the small case.

The man took the case and opened it up to count it. He smiled and looked up at him. "Take him," he and the guard stepped aside. "There's clothes to hide the collar."

Stiles stood up from where he was pushed onto the ground. He walked toward Derek cautiously and grabbed him. Derek turned his head toward, obviously recognizing his scent. He bent down to grab the coat and pants.

"He's your problem now," they waved him off.

He looked back at Derek right after he saw them walk off. "The exit is down the hall."

"Derek?"

He didn't reply. It was obvious that he was still weak. He brought his hands up to the blindfold and untied it. Stiles removed the blindfold, revealing emerald green eyes fluttering open. "Sti-" he attempted say his name but his voice sounded too scratchy to continue.

"Come on," he handed Derek his clothes. "I'm here to take you home."

Derek took his clothes and dressed himself, not caring that Stiles was right in front of him.

"It's all good then!" He exclaimed. "Time to go."

But before you could turn to go, Derek grabbed onto his wrist, halting his steps. He pointed to his neck. "The col-"

Stiles stopped and turned to Derek. "You mean the collar?" Derek nodded.

"Take it off outside," he leaned closer to Derek, earning himself a glare from the man. "Don't want it to be suspicious." Stiles turned to leave again but was stopped again. "Fine! Jeez, just hurry up."

Derek grabbed onto the collar with both hands, gripping it tight. He started to pull on the collar before immediately pulling back his hands. Stiles heard him scream in pain as he saw a flash of light blue light.

The spot on Derek's neck around the collar darkened a little after the shock. And the expression on his face was sour. "Sorry but looks like it's not coming off any time soon," he tugged on his coat, leading him outside.

Both were in silence for awhile as they walked out. "You know," Stiles kept his eyes forward but had gained the attention of him. "Since I bought you back from them and all," he hesitated his words, afraid Derek would hurt him. "Does this mean you have to do whatever I want?" His eyebrows furrowed, wearing a threatening glare as he rose his hand toward Stiles.

"Nuh uh!" Stiles rose his free hand, stepping away from Derek as he rose the collar controller in his hand, halting Derek's actions as he looked slightly panicked. "You wouldn't want me to use this, would you?"

Derek still wore his glare, slightly lowering his hand as he took as step toward him.

"And try to take it away, and-" he shook the controller side to side to finish his sentence.

He dropped his hand, clenching it into a fist.

Stiles smirked, lowering his arms. "Come on, Sour wolf!" He slapped Derek's ass, hearing him yelp at his action. "Time to go home."

Before he would start walking, Derek glared at Stiles, mouthing a threat to him.

"Yeah yeah," he waved it off. "With your teeth, just go grumpy!"


End file.
